


creatures in the wind

by elderflowergin



Category: Hyena (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderflowergin/pseuds/elderflowergin
Summary: elderflowergin: Is it so wrong to want Heejae in a tux, dancing sans jacket and bowtie undoneelderflowergin: He would never do thatthefeast: He totally would if he’s at home with GJ, after a gala event and he’s still dressed upthefeast: Maybe he’s in the middle of undressing and some Nina Simone is playing and he sees GJ sitting on the couch in her gown and bare feet and the mood takes him and he asks her to dance in their living roomelderflowergin: FEEEAAAAAAAST
Relationships: Yoon Heejae/Jung Geumja
Comments: 15
Kudos: 25





	creatures in the wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefeastandthefast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefeastandthefast/gifts).



"Mr Yoon! Where is that delightful law partner of yours? I haven't seen her all evening, and she promised me a dance," asked one of the ambassadors (Dutch? Belgian? He couldn't remember). Hee-jae nonetheless put a friendly hand on the man's shoulder. 

"Probably occupied with business, Ambassador. No days of rest for us, I'm afraid," he replied apologetically. "Another drink for you?" He took a champagne flute from a passing tray and handed it over. 

Issume's yearly gala was always well-attended, and this year was no exception. The champagne flowed, the conversation sparkled and the socialising was in high gear. As Issume’s long-time lawyers, they’d become hosts of sorts by default. 

This year, Yoon Hee-jae just wanted to go home and rest. It'd been a long, eventful week for him, and Jung Geum-ja was nowhere to be seen. 

He thought he’d leave, and spotted Kim Min-joo on the way out the doors. 

“Leaving so soon?” she asked, resplendent in a black draped gown and dripping in diamonds. “The dance floor is starting and I would take that tux out for a spin if I were you,” she said, tapping her clutch in the direction of the ballroom. 

Hee-jae bowed. “Apologies, Kim-daepyonim. It’s been a long week, and I’m becoming poor company.” 

“Both of you work too hard. See you at the board meeting,” she said, heading back into the ballroom.

-

He drove home and let himself in. It was dark but for a dim glow in the living room; he could hear the music turned low.

Geum-ja was home, he thought, finally feeling settled. 

Her gold clutch was on top of the shoe cabinet; a single YSL heel lay askew on the floor. She was lying on the sofa, still in a gorgeous black crepe gown; her eyes were closed and there was a highball glass in her hand. 

“We were supposed to be at the same party, weren’t we?” he asked, amused, as he walked towards the head of the sofa. 

“Check your texts next time,” she said, a smile on her face, eyes still closed. She extended her free hand behind her head; he held it, falling to a low crouch behind her. He kissed her forehead and retrieved the glass, taking a swig before placing it on the coffee-table. 

Her hand went to the nape of his neck, then under his shirt. “Mr Yoon,” she greeted, obligingly. He nudged his nose behind her ear and whispered, like he was disclosing his best-kept secret, “Mrs Yoon.”

She opened her eyes briefly. “Well, it doesn’t sound that bad, does it?”

“Not at all."

“I wasn’t feeling well,” she said, semi-apologetic. "Did you leave early because of me?"

Hee-jae shook his head. "I wasn't really feeling up to it myself. Are you feeling better? Can I top you up?"

Geum-ja shook her head. "I'm fine. Just increase the volume. I like the next song." 

He poured himself a Scotch and loosened his bowtie, stopping by the record player so they could hear the mournful echoes of Nina Simone’s contralto pleading _love me, love me, love me_ like an incantation.

"Dance with me?" he asked, stretching out his free hand. 

Her eyelids fluttered open and she turned her gaze onto him. In this light, her eyes were golden. She took his proffered hand, then rose to meet him. “I need my shoes,” she muttered, “it’s ridiculous otherwise.” 

“Just till the end of the song,” he coaxed. 

Geum-ja picked her footwear off the floor, then walked toward him barefoot, sandals dangling from one hand and the hem of her dress from the other. She pulled them on, then walked into his embrace. 

Hee-jae had a hand just under one bare shoulder blade, extremely proper like he was probably taught in school; the other hand clasped hers. There was something almost innocent about it, and Geum-ja was moved, leaning on his chest and curling their hands to rest in between their swaying bodies. 

There had been no vows or a ceremony; they’d signed their papers and then gone off separately - him back to court; her to a client meeting. 

In their house, though, where they first fell in love, Ms Simone declared you’re spring to me, all things to me, and they danced as one. 

The song rose to a crescendo near the end; she released his hand and pulled him down for a sunburst of a kiss as the last few notes fluttered away. He let her lead it; waited as she curled her tongue into his mouth, gentle and intentional, as if she could climb inside his skin like this and feel what he felt. 

The record slipped like a cat in the night into the next song; Hee-jae took her hand and gave it a courtly, gentle kiss, as if to thank her for entertaining his request. She sat down, spell somewhat dispelled, and took her glass in hand. 

Hee-jae sat down at the other end from Geum-ja, placing her feet in his lap and unfurling the laces. She leaned forward, placed her head on his shoulder and absently toyed with his undone bowtie. 

“Maybe we should have picked another day. One where we didn’t have this gala,” he mused.

“You were free, I was free, and we managed to find two other people who were free at the same time. I just came back from Beijing and you’re headed to Shanghai next week.” 

“Fair enough. Is Hyeon-a okay?” 

Geum-ja chuckled. “Oh, she’s fine. Still upset that she didn’t get fair warning, but she’s alright.” 

(Geum-ja had checked the court calendar; Hyeon-a was between matters at the High Court building, so she texted Hyeon-a to come to City Hall when she was done.

Hee-jae went to ask Kwon Yong-un at the prosecutors’ office in the court building; Yong-un had checked his watch, narrowed his eyes and - in the manner of someone who suspected he was the subject of an elaborate prank - commented, "I thought you guys were already married."

Hyeon-a stood next to Yong-un at City Hall. "You two are, without a doubt, the worst people I have ever met," she said, voice watery. Prosecutor Kwon handed her a handkerchief; she hadn't stopped crying since she stepped into the registry, and continued to do so after she signed against Geum-ja’s side and hugged her.)

-

“These are very elaborate shoes,” commented Hee-jae when he finally dropped both sandals back on the floor and looked back at her. Her elbow was poised on the back of the couch, hand resting on her temple, watching him at work. 

“You look very handsome in a tuxedo,” she remarked, fingering the black tie loose around his neck and delighting in his eyes going dark very, very quickly. 

“You look like a painting in a museum,” he said very softly.

She looked at her watch - his, rather, on her wrist. “If we hurry up - we could consummate by midnight.” 

Hee-jae coughed, turning a little red. “That,” he replied, “is a terrible word.” 

“What else do you expect when lawyers have to come up with a term for fucking this grand institution to completion?” she asked, climbing into his lap sideways. 

“I’m not even going to make the obvious joke about fucking grand institutions,” he said, lifting her with relative ease as she flinched. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she mumbled, clasping her hands around his neck. 

“It’s tradition,” he explained. 

“It’s overly dramatic, don’t you think? Very caveman-like,” she said, trying her best to sound dignified whilst being physically carried. 

“And you don’t enjoy that?” he asked with a rumbling laugh she could feel through his chest. 

“Of course I do, what kind of question is that,” she retorted. 

He stopped at the entrance of their bedroom. “Hey, Jung Geum-ja? You good?” 

She considered her answer carefully. “Yes,” she replied. “Always. You?” 

“Yes," he whispered as he carried her over the threshold. 

-

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that Geum-ja put those shoes on easily and Hee-jae had trouble taking them off is not a plot-hole, I promise.
> 
> Thank you, @thefeastandthefast, for the idea! I hope you enjoyed the execution!


End file.
